


Passing the Torch

by beekeepercain



Series: In Fewer Words [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Children, F/M, Fear, Ghosts, Paranoia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 07:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beekeepercain/pseuds/beekeepercain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of goodbyes and new beginnings has laid a path for Dean into a life he didn't expect. Underneath the surface, the years past have left behind an emptiness that is hard to live with, and a longing that doesn't seem to heal with time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passing the Torch

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Barcelona Diary, a pile of short SPN fics I wrote while travelling.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The trick always worked. Dean pulled his hand out of the girl's bed and sighed wearily. He closed his eyes and relaxed to the sound of the old school guitar riff playing in the background. He thought it could be just fine if he fell asleep there - what harm would it do? He'd slept in worse positions. The armchair was at least comfortable and soft, and he was home, the best place to be.  
He covered a large yawn with the back of his hand and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was pointing half past ten in the evening, still well in schedule. If he'd go to bed now, he could persuade - no, tempt - Sophie to sleep with him. They'd hardly had time for that lately with everything going on.  
Moving had taken a lot more time and effort than Dean had imagined, but then again, this house was bigger too. Even with Sam and Vanessa helping, it had been a chore.  
In some way, domestic life sometimes made Dean think back to living in motels and the Impala with nostalgic longing, but all in all, he was happy here.

His eyes scanned the alphabet letters scattered on the pale yellow wall until another yawn forced his eyes shut. Still recovering from it, he pulled his heavy-feeling body off the chair and quietly left the room, turning the lights off in passing. From old habit, he checked the barely visible devil's trap on the ceiling and felt reassured by the unbroken lines. Every window and each doorway in the house was reinforced with built-in, hidden from view salt lines, as Dean wasn't taking any chances with his family. After Mary's birth, he'd nearly crossed the line of unhealthy paranoia, but at least Sophie, as a former hunter, understood him well. She'd come up with some ingenious ways of protecting the house and after days of hard work, even Dean had to admit they probably had the safest house in all America.  
Sam had raised brows at the brief summary of most things they'd done, but he'd gladly accepted help and advice at proofing his place as well, as even if he hadn't grown as paranoid as his older brother, he was far from stupid. He'd take any protection he could.

Sophie was sleeping when Dean entered the bedroom. She had left the bedside light on. It was fine, Dean thought, sleep was the second best plan he had for the night and he didn't have the heart to wake up his wife simply because he sort of needed her affection. They'd have plenty of time for that later.  
Dean turned off the light as he dug under the blanket, bringing an arm over the woman sleeping next to him before closing his eyes and falling asleep soon after.

He didn't know how long he'd slept when he was woken up by a small, sticky cold hand taking a hold of his arm. He reached to take a look at the illuminated numbers on the digital clock before sitting up and focusing on Mary standing next to his bed.  
3:24am.

"What is it?" he asked, still half-asleep.

"A ghost in my room."

Dean laid his feet on the ground and stretched unwillingly.  
"Well, it's good you already know what we're up against," he muttered and stood up taking a firm hold of the girl's hand, "So what do we do when we get there and find it?"

Mary repeated what he'd taught her as they walked down the corridor back to her room. By the time Dean pulled the blanket over her again and stroked her dark hair, she had already calmed down. If Dean could help it, she'd never grow up to be a hunter, but she would know everything he could teach her: how to fight, how to survive. For her own safety, and for her family's, she deserved to learn.

"Good night," Dean whispered into her ear.  
"Angels are watching over you."  
  


~*~ ~*~ ~*~


End file.
